Memories Never Fade
by StoryLover345
Summary: Aven had been able to read people's memories since she was five. Her power had become normal. That is, until the day she's sucked back in time. Now, Aven has to find out who this new kid is before she's trapped within his memories forever.
1. Strange Encounter

Author's Note: So, nothing new has been added.. yet. But the beginning of the story was rewritten, hopefully an improvement.

Thank you for reading!

* * *

I can hear it everywhere across the room, the beats are different, but the meanings are all the same. Not a single individual is enjoying the long, monotonous lecture being spewed at us from the elderly man at the chalkboard. Even his eyes are half closed, lips barely parting with each softly uttered word. The pencil tapping grows louder and I drop mine, sinking lower in to my seat, glaring at the aged man ahead. I have met people who have lived through the wars he speaks of, even fought in them. I have spoken with beings who were centuries of years old, danced with those who watched the invention of music, and sat with those who inspired the first teachers. And because I was near this individuals, I have lived the history they lived, watched the scenes through their eyes. I could give a first hand account that would bring the cut and dry pages to life. I could fill in so many blanks.

But I can't share that information.

There would be too many questions.

A normal person wouldn't know those things, and I am not even human. I'm a creature of the Night World. _The Night World isn't a place. It's all around us. It's a secret society of vampires, werewolves, witches, and other creatures of darkness that live among us. They are beautiful. They are deadly and irresistible to humans. Your high school teacher could be one, not that the man before me was likely. Even your boyfriend. Anyone. But there are rules. _

_The Night World laws say it's okay to hunt humans; it's even okay to kill them. There are only two things you can't do with them:_

_Never let them find out the Night World exists._

_Never fall in love with one of them. _

I have hunted humans, I have even killed them. But never have I broken the laws of the Night World, which make it hard to share my vast knowledge of history. If I were to let these things sleep and the council were to find out, I would be killed. No trial, no reasons. Breaking the laws of the Night World were punishable by death in all cases. You're probably wondering how a human could be hunted and live without spilling the secrets of the monster that attacked them. The beings of the Night World are gifted, in many ways, but they all share something in common: Power. A measurement of their mental abilities. Telepathic powers in a sense. They can manipulate the thoughts of humans, wiping away memories or altering basic thoughts. They can even attack using their Power, sending out a mental wave to cripple their opponents. Most can't do this, they aren't strong enough, but they all have Power, in various degrees.

Me.. I'm special.

I can control the memories of others.

It's nearly impossible to stop this attack unless you know exactly what it is, which most Night Worlders don't. I can create a new memory or watch old ones, warping them to my desire. It's easier for me then most of my kind. But unlike others, I don't see humans as beneath me and toying with them isn't amusing to me. So, when I do enter their memories, I don't dig too deep. I don't make it personal.

This view is far different from others of my kind, from vampires. Humans are nothing but livestock, a storage for the essential blood we depend on. Vampires come in two types. There are lamia, who are born vampires, and made vampires. A lamia can age, change, and this process only stops when they choose for it to. A made vampire, like me, we stay the same forever. Once the change has occurred, we become breathtakingly beautiful, as well as unbelievably fast and strong. We're the perfect predators.

And I hate it.

I let my mind drift through the thoughts of my classmates, searching for an interesting bit of gossip, an exciting memory, to take my attention from the boring man attempting to teach us. But as I move from mind to mind, I notice something strange. None of them are thinking of anything, their attention is focused on the door, on a boy. I don't understand the infatuation until I let my eyes follow their gaze.

There's a boy standing in the doorway, a backpack slung over his shoulder. He's tall, at least six feet, and has darkly tanned skin. His hair is nearly black brown and falls in loose waves cross his broad forehead. A tight t-shirt hugs his chest, which is lined with well-defined muscles, and he's wearing white wash jeans with a worn leather jacket. His eyes are a nearly white, piercing blue and they watch the teacher absently. After a moment, the corners of his lips curl in to an amused grin.

When his stare meets mine I don't look away like the others, I just gaze back with a cocky confidence most people have begun to hate about me. Though, the cockiness is perfectly placed.

I'm like all of my kind, beautiful. I have porcelain skin shaded a milky white. My hair is black and falls loosely across my shoulders, the waves looking even darker against my pale skin. My cheekbones are high and sharp and my eyes are angled, a burning black that is somehow mysterious, alluring. I am very petite, but the curves are still evident. The boys want me, the girls want to be me, as much as they both deny it.

You can't hide when your thoughts are common knowledge.

"Well, class," Our teacher calls, pulling her detention from the chalkboard as I swing my head to look forward. "This is Steven." As the name slips from his lips a sudden wave slams into me, the familiar touch of memories far stronger than ever before as I'm hurtled into someone else's past.

_There's a little boy, black hair, dark blue eyes. He has a fishing pole in hand, the large object nearly falling from his grasp as he flings the rope into the water._

_"Not so hard, son. We don't want to scare away the fish." An elderly man chuckles, but the scold is kind and loving. The boy turns towards him, head dipped down so his hair makes a curtain in front of his eyes before he looks forward through the black strands and flips them back onto the top of his head. They spill down the sides, earning a laugh from the elderly man as he ruffles the boy's hair._

_"How much longer?" The boy questions, once again throwing the line of his fishing pole out._

_"Till your done." The man answers before the scene begins to blur..._

I fall back into the present, looking forward again, only to see the new kid making his way towards me. He flashes a wide grin and I turn away, suddenly jumpy. I've never been pulled into someone's memories before, the pull has never been that strong. It's not right. I have always controlled my power, it has never controlled me. The feeling is unsettling.

"Steven." The boy extends one hand as he drops his bag to the floor, sinking gracefully into his chair.

"Aven." I mutter absently, not bothering to touch him. After a moment he drops his hand, a low chuckle sounding in his throat. "Oh?" I whisper, my voice pitched just beneath the teacher's hearing level. "Do I amuse you?"

"Yes, actually." He grins to himself as he leans back in his chair, crossing his arms and letting his long legs stretch out under the seat at the desk in front of ours. After a moment he tilts his head forward, dark brown hair falling into his eyes. Then he tosses his head back, hair flying back. After a moment the curls creep forward, drifting in to his eyes, and he shakes his head defeated. He begins tapping his finger on the table and my nerves seem to prick at every gentle tap.

"How much longer are you going to do that?" I snap sharply. He laughs, earning a few glances from his classmates, and leans towards me.

"Well, until I'm done, of course." He murmurs, shaking his head and turning his attention towards the front of the room. I stare at him in shock. Most people get nervous around me, they don't stare me down. But there's something familiar in the words, in his smile.. It takes me back to the flash of the past I had just a few moments ago.

The little boy in the memory, it was Steven.

This is going to be a very, _very_ long year.

"So where are you from, Aven?" The boy asks, looking over at me through that mess of curls. My eyes narrow at him and I sniff, looking back at the teacher. I was being honest when I said that I don't think I'm better then humans, that doesn't mean I like them. I'm not a very social person, with them or my own kind, or any Night Worlder for that matter.

"Don't bother, man." The guy in front of us murmurs, giving me a fleeting glance. "She doesn't talk unless you matter, that puts out new guys."

"Hey." I say, leaning towards the boy. His eyes widen. It's the first time I've ever talked to him, and he's dreamed about this moment for weeks. I've seen them all. But I want to make a point: I don't ignore people, just Steven. I want him to stay as far away from me as possible. And I do need lunch. "Why don't you sit with me at lunch? I'll be in the back, same spot under the old oak tree. Ok?" He nods, eyes widened in complete and utter shock.

Humans are so predictable.

But, I must admit, the boy is right. I used to be the nice girl in high school, the one who listened to people and made them feel better. Then I went on a walk, at night, with a harmless stranger who needed someone to talk to. When I finally woke up, I was in a coffin. I screamed for hours, beating against the smooth wood, clawing at the edges. I was only greeted with silence and darkness. When my voice was gone, and my hope was long burned out, the digging began. When the coffin finally opened, it was the boy from before, and as he pulled me out, he began to explain to me what I had become.

I couldn't take the fact that I'd never see my family again, that I was a creature of the night, an abomination. So I ran. And I didn't look back.

That's when I began getting sucked in to quick spurts of visions, emotions. Becoming a vampire hadn't given me my gift, just enhanced it. As a child I had the same ability. Like intuition or a sudden feeling. I never thought anything of it, never noticed my 'gift'.

I guess it just wasn't strong enough while I was human.

When I enrolled in school, I expected a clean get away, that the visions had been a side affect of dying and becoming the undead. But it only got worse. I saw things. Not just small facts, but actual moments of their lives. At first it was overwhelming, I couldn't stop myself from collapsing back in to the past. But as time went on, I began to control it and to understand my power. With the understanding, I grew colder, more distant. But I managed to know anything and everything. These little bits of information managed to lift me in to the more elite world of high school, popularity. If someone isn't in this select group, I don't talk to them.

It's that simple. We rule the school, yet most of the students hate us. Except me. No matter how cruel I am, everyone always attends my parties, always attempts to talk to me, and every guy still adores me. Then again––unlike the others in my group––I will sometimes give people a chance to get in to our group, only when I get bored.

In this case, I'm bored and hungry. If I have to deal with this new guy for the rest of the day I'll need energy, which human blood provides.

"Apparantly, man," Steven's thoughts give off a humored vibe, his mind once again pulling me towards him. "She does talk to people." The boy flashes a grin my way, which I don't return as I raise my hand. The teacher slowly turns towards me, eyes dark.

"Yes Aven?"She sighs, voice annoyed.

"May I be excused? Mr. Mahondo wanted some help with the freshman drama club." I explain, fighting the urge to simply fall back in to Steven's memories. I can already feel my strength diminishing, I won't be able to resist for long.

"Aven," The teacher begins before I decide I can't take no for an answer. I collect the last of my energy, pushing in to his mind the memory of speaking with me earlier about it.. and him happily agreeing. Along with deciding to have the students read and answer questions the rest of the week because I can't stand another lecture. "Of course you may. I'm sorry I forgot." He finishes, voice suddenly kind. I feel Steven's memory growing on the edge of my mind so I grab my bag, scoop it over my shoulder, and walk gracefully out of the room.

At first I can keep my stride up, planning to go exactly where I said I would, before my step falters and I stumble in to the wall. Next my vision begins to swim, contorting the hallway in to a mass of swirling colors. I manage to stumble in to a close by classroom, pushing the door closed behind me. Then I drag up that reserve of energy, a strength deep inside my chest, and force my body across the room. I grab the phone, dialing the first number to come to mind..


	2. Bright as Blood

"Hello?" A clear voice chimes. Of course. Steven had to answer. "Oops, my bad, Mrs. Mahondo's room, student speaking."

"Could you send that kid in front of you down to B3?" I whisper, closing my eyes tightly.

"Oh? What do you need?" He chuckles, voice still cheerful.

"Just someone, alright? Could you please send him?" I beg, forcing my limbs to keep working even as they begin to burn from lack of oxygen. I should have had something sooner, far, far sooner. Then Steven had to have his super memories. No one has ever held my mind like that. Nor have I ever lost this much energy from resisting the pull.

I guess I'll have to just add more people to my diet. I can't last anymore, especially right now! But I could have made it if that idiot hadn't wasted all of my––

"So, what do you need, Aven?" Steven calls, appearing at the doorway and bumping it closed behind him with a grin. "You know, you're a lot less terrifying than that boy made you out to be..." But his voice is already fading from my ears. All I can hear is his heart beat. Each pound is muted, heavy, and I hear the soft brush of his blood flowing through his veins. His breaths make little bursts of noise as they circulate through his lungs.

"Come here." I call, not caring about whatever he was saying. As he moves closer I can feel my teeth growing, the canines slowly sharpening to flawless, deadly points. The second Steven is only a few feet away, I move forward, fingers curling over his shoulders, leg sweeping behind his, throwing him off balance. We tumble to the ground and I use my strength to keep him pinned, my mind worried about nothing but the blood I feel running beneath my hands, beneath his skin. Animal instincts are kicking in and my mouth practically waters.

My head darts forward and my teeth hit their target easily, piercing his flesh and cutting through the main artery running along his neck. Blood instantly spills past my lips and the relief is wonderful. But it only lasts for a moment, because suddenly my senses are dulled as the world falls away around me.

His heart beat pounds through my body and I feel my self sway forward in to him, losing control of my limbs, of everything.

My strength is coming back faster then I ever imagined possible, filling my body with a warm, radiating goodness. And with the rush of energy comes Steven's mind, wrapping around mine, pulling me in, binding our thoughts together in a sweeping wind. As it does, I see something new, something so wonderful that the view is almost painful in its beauty.

Because it is Steven's essence, his soul.

His mind seems to glow, burning with a brightness that consumes me, banishing the darkness in my own thoughts. Shadows linger at the corners of his mind, but they are so small I almost doubt seeing them. I sense myself gasp as my own darkness is exposed by this glow, this perfecting. It consumes me in every way, wrapping me in warmth. It's as though I've been thrown in to the sun. But my skin doesn't burn, my eyes don't sting. It is only comforting. I'm prepared to stay here forever, about to give myself over, when a groan crosses my ears.

I prickle instantly.

Who is disturbing this moment, this complete grace?

It takes a flash of pain through this colorful haven for me to realize the sound came from Steven. He's in pain. My body comes back to me with stark clarity and I rip my head back. Crimson stains Steven's neck, his blood dripping from my lips. We both breath heavily, his eyes scared, pained, confused, my own mind consumed with so much shock that there is room for nothing else. I simply stare at him. His lips, his eyes, his shoulders.. It all reaches me in a new light. It is in this exact moment that I realize the level of crime I have committed. He is quivering, each tremble flickering down his body, a display of weakness.

Of lack of blood.

I realize that I'm straddling, holding him down with claw like hands, my fingers curled tightly around his shoulders. His eyes are dazed and they glow, a cloud seeming to cover them. The place I was, the things I saw.. they have reached him too. And as I watch him, hold him, I feel something between us. It takes me a moment to place it, and once I have, the surprise nearly sends me in to insanity. A silver string, glowing with a soft, blue light, is stretched between us, binding us. As I think, I can feel his pain, his awe as if it were my own.

And it terrifies me.

"You're fine." I begin, voice hypnotic, holding his startled gaze. He reminds me of a deer. It's as though he's as bound by my gaze as a doe would be by the headlights of a semi-truck. It's quite similar actually. Neither one knows the danger of the beauty before them. For the deer, the machine that's about to crush them, lurking behind heavenly light. For Steven, the deadly strength of my body that is lightly layered by soft, graceful beauty. His blood is spilled across my lips, he can see now how unnatural I am, but still, he remains, gazing at me with those large eyes, his lips slightly parted, heart beating steadily.

_This is wrong!_ My mind cries. _He's human!_

"You feel no pain." I tear a strip from my undershirt. Shouldn't matter, no one will see the missing cloth. I press it to his wound. "It is all alright. You're happy, and alive." I feel his mind tugging on me, and I wrench back. "You will not remember this moment, me." This time, I want to launch in to his mind for a whole other reason. "You will forget this ever happened."

And with that, I stand, wipe my mouth, and flee as fast as my legs can carry me.

My breathing is violent, tearing from my chest in sharp bursts. This is bad, very bad. I am desperate to turn back, to hold him, touch him, simply be close to him. But this is wrong, horrible. I can not care for a human, it is one of the greatest laws of our people, punishable by death.

If anyone were to find out, they would kill us both.

I realize then that it is not my life I fear for, but the loss of his.

I hit the front doors of the school and keep going, stopping only when the fresh air has washed away his scent. I run the back of my hand over my lips, holding it before me to gaze at the dark red liquid. His blood. His life.

I let out a furious cry and my fist slams in to a car's side, leaving a distinctly fist shaped dent.

"Someone sure is angry today." I spin, panting, and when I see the figure behind me, my undead heart seems to grow even colder within me. The man before me is my greatest enemy, an individual I loathe with every fiber of my being. He killed me and gave me a horrible life I could not escape, could not run from. He destroyed me and built me.

He changed everything.

And I have spent years running from him.

But now.. Now he's here.

And he _will_ want revenge.


End file.
